


excuse me, do me or lose me

by loveontherocks



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Cisgirl!Zayn, Cunnilingus, Daddy Kink, F/M, PWP, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 07:23:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5530877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Zayn throws the cigarette over the balcony and looks at Liam, cocking her head to the side. “Could you do me a favor?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Liam raises an eyebrow, nods his head once, and she can see his eyes alight, ready to do anything for her, and—how’d she miss that? “Course,” he says. The 'anything for you' that’s left unsaid sticks to her skin like the sweat that clings to her flesh from the humid heat. She relishes in it, loves the way his voice drops and his attention is on her and only her. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Zayn takes a step forward, puts her hand on his face. “I want you to fuck me.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Liam’s eyebrows fly up, but there’s a sly smile that curls his lips and Zayn lets her tongue dart out to wet her own. There’s air trapped in her lungs and she feels like she can’t properly breathe. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Liam doesn’t say anything. Not with his mouth.</i>
</p><p>or; Zayn asked and Liam said yes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	excuse me, do me or lose me

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably going to be my last fic for this year, but what a year it's been! This is just some shameless, self-indulgent pwp a few people inspired me to write; it wasn't supposed to end up 6k, but here we are. Sorry if it gets all mushy. It's mostly just porn until I slam you guys with feelings. 
> 
> I don't own anything. All typos are my own. Please enjoy.

Touching herself isn’t enough anymore, not when all that crosses her mind is _LiamLiamLiam_ on a never ending loop. She can’t get off; the air in the room is stale, still, and her breathing is too loud. All she wants is to push Liam down and ride him until she can’t breathe.

Hotel rooms aren’t fun for Zayn, and she hates the way they feel sterile and untouchable; there’s nothing in here that feels like home. She’s twenty-seven, though. Not much feels like home other than her mother’s house and the flat she worked ridiculously hard for, slaughtering her way up the ladder to become a very important person for a very important company, all while wearing six-inch heels and pencil skirts, mind you.

Liam, though? Liam is home. Well, he could be if he let her in. Or if _she_ let him in. She’s not sure who’s fault that is, whether they’re going to stop tiptoe-ing around each other and just invade each other’s spaces like she thinks they’re meant to—or. Or maybe she’s got everything wrong and Liam _is_ just being friendly, because that’s what he is. A friend. She wants him to be more than that, wants more than that from him.

She wants to come home to him.

She’s spent five years working alongside Liam, since she was a secretary at the front desk and Liam worked to run errands for the higher-ups, bringing her lunch and coffee, while she drafted notes for meetings and planned out the schedules of all the directors and officers in their department, transferring calls and taking messages—they were together through it all, as Liam was promoted and now has an office that overlooks the London skyline, and Zayn made her way up to Director of the Advertising Department.

Right now, though, she’s on this stupid business trip that doesn’t seem to be making any progress on the advertising account they’re supposed to be working on, but Zayn’s too worked up to think about anything other than Liam.

That trip to the beach this afternoon should have been out of the question. She shouldn’t have gone. But Liam looked so good in his board shorts when he asked her to come out of the hotel room, and Liam standing tall on a surfboard was something she couldn’t get out of her mind.

With her hand down the front of her lacy black panties, she recalls the memories of Liam on the beach, glowing underneath the brilliant Brazilian sunlight, droplets of water sluicing down his body as he emerged from the ocean, looking absolutely blinding. How Zayn hadn’t jumped him then is something she can’t quite believe, considering just looking at him all wet like that made her ache, dripping in her bikini bottoms, crossing and uncrossing her legs as Liam surfed.

It’s late; the midnight hour is crossing into the early minutes of one a.m. and Zayn isn’t sure if Liam is awake still or if he’s huddled underneath the sheets, freshly showered and smelling like lemon and ginger and cigarette smoke from the last time he stepped out onto the balcony.

She’ll take her chances; Zayn’s body is hot, sticky with sweat from frustration because no matter how hard she tries, she just can’t get herself to come. Rolling over into a fitful sleep is not an option tonight, not when Liam’s so close, when he could be so willing to just take what Zayn is offering.

Because she’s tired of the games and she wants him. Or just a little taste to get her by. She doesn’t know what they’re doing anymore, why they’re painfully single and not with each other. Like they should be, like Zayn sometimes daydreams about when she’s sat at her desk at seven at night, overworked, and Liam comes into her office, wraps her up in her coat and sends her home. Alone, but at least he cares.

He cares. _Whatever_. She knows he’s half in love with her, and she’s the same, and—

There are consequences to this, but.

Zayn sits up on her bed, finds a t-shirt to pull on over her mostly naked body, uncaring that she’s dressed in lacey boy shorts, and leaves her hotel room to the one next door where she can hear the soft thump of Drake, and Zayn’s body lights on fire, right outside his door, taking in a deep breath. There’s no one else in the hall with her, so she takes a moment to collect herself, gather up her hair and shove it into a messy knot high on her head.

Her hand is heavy when it knocks on the door.

After a moment, when he doesn’t answer, Zayn debates on whether or not she should go back to her room and take a bath until she’s tired enough to drop off into slumber.

The door opens, though; Liam stands there, wearing nothing but sleep pants tugged down low over the cut of his hips. His chest is golden and strong and his face is confused, maybe even concerned, but Zayn just gives him a weak smile.

“Can’t sleep, boss?” Liam says, eyes flitting quick over her body, and Zayn’s heart is pounding in her chest.

Oh, _yeah_. She’s his fucking boss, which is all the more reason to scamper back to her hotel room and forget this whole ordeal, just leave Liam be with his bulging biceps and rock hard abs and the stubble on the line of his jaw that she wants so badly to run her lips over.

“No. I mean. I was trying. But— _stress_. I don’t know. Just—can I chill in here for a bit?” she asks, swallowing thickly. “If you’re not like, sleeping or summat?”

Zayn’s been with guys before, _hot_ guys like Liam but for some reason he makes her confidence crash and burn and she’s trembling, looking up at Liam’s curious eyes when he opens the door and lets her though. His room is identical to hers. Two beds, a nightstand inbetween. There’s a table and two chairs by the sliding glass doors that lead out to the balcony that faces the glimmer of the ocean. The moon is enormous in the sky, shining down on the water as the waves crash over the shore.

The glass door is open, and there’s a fresh breeze that cools her fevered skin. She walks outside, picking up Liam’s pack of cigarettes as she makes her way out. She fishes out the lighter from the half empty pack, and lights up a cigarette, needing something to calm her nerves, quiet her thoughts. She’s made it this far, hasn’t she?

“You look worked up, Zayn,” Liam says from behind her. “Real tense.”

Zayn huffs out a laugh through a cloud of smoke that spills from her mouth. “No shit,” she mutters. “I’m—“ She stops herself, shaking her head.

Liam comes up to her, close, but he doesn’t touch her. He leans against the railing on his elbows, body smooth and languid, like he’s tired, humoring Zayn’s insomnia. He looks out over the water, and then back to Zayn and for fuck’s sake, she sure as hell doesn’t miss the way his eyes climb over her body, up the naked expanse of her legs and then over the tiny t-shirt she’s got on, up to meet her eyes.

Zayn throws the cigarette over the balcony and looks at Liam, cocking her head to the side. “Could you do me a favor?”

Liam raises an eyebrow, nods his head once, and she can see his eyes alight, ready to do anything for her, and—how’d she miss that? “Course,” he says. The _anything for you_ that’s left unsaid sticks to her skin like the sweat that clings to her flesh from the humid heat. She relishes in it, loves the way his voice drops and his attention is on her and only her.

Zayn takes a step forward, puts her hand on his face. “I want you to fuck me.”

Liam’s eyebrows fly up, but there’s a sly smile that curls his lips and Zayn lets her tongue dart out to wet her lips. There’s air trapped in her lungs and she feels like she can’t properly breathe.

Liam doesn’t say anything. Not with his mouth.

His hands are hot and big and the reach for her when he stands tall, pulls her body close to his, and she feels like she’s being engulfed in flames with the way he looks down at her, with his dark, expressive brown eyes. He presses her body against the bannister; the cool metal presses against the small of her back, and Liam takes her mouth in a bruising kiss, licking into her mouth, and Zayn whines, makes a noise she knows is embarrassing, but, fuck, all she wants is him, pressed close to her, his hands sliding over her skinny hips to grip her ass, and she can feel him, half hard in those sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

Zayn’s fingers touch over Liam’s strong shoulders and she shudders when she feels those muscles flex and move underneath hot skin. She’s wet already, has been all day, and now it’s like a flood, just a pool of heat in the mess of her panties. She’s so ready for him to just slide in and take her.

“Should just fuck you out here, right here, huh?” He says against her mouth, voice low and deep, rough, and it sounds like sex, like she can come from him talking to her like this. She never thought—she never considered Liam would have a dirty mouth but it sends shocks of pretty electricity clawing down her spine. “You’re desperate for it aren’t you?” He continues, slipping a hand between her thighs to press his fingers over the wet material of her boy shorts. She can’t help but throw her head back and let out a moan, low and crackling through the air like a whip.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Zayn,” Liam says against her throat, licking over her fevered skin, fingers rubbing over the material, stimulating her clit and Zayn’s legs are trembling, like she won’t be able to keep herself up for much longer if he keeps touching her like this, talking to her like this. “Is this for me? You wet for me, babe?” he whispers into her ear and Zayn curls her fingers over the back of his neck. Liam hikes up one of her legs over his hip with his auxiliary hand, keeping his fingers still pressed against where she drips for him.

“Been thinking about you all night, Liam. Been thinking about you and your cock and you fucking me real good, Daddy.”

She didn’t mean for that to slip out and she pulls back quickly to gauge his reaction, an apology on the tip of her tongue, but all that meets her vision are his kiss swollen lips, and his eyes so dark Zayn doesn’t know if she’s going to make it through this.

“Yeah?” he questions her, and Zayn, still looking up at him, bites down on her bottom lip and nods her head.

“You gonna give it to me, Daddy?” she whispers to him, her whole body shaking with the anticipation of being dicked down by him as she slides one hand down his strong chest and flexing stomach, so she can reach underneath the elastic waistband of his sweatpants to grip where his dick is so hard, hot and thick in her palm.

“Fuck, Zayn, yes. You’re gonna be a good girl for me aren’t you?” Liam says, bucking his hips into her hold, moving his hand from between her thighs to trail up the tense muscles underneath her shirt to palm at her breast. Her nipples are hard, aching and it’s like Liam knows her body already, knows that she likes the way he pinches her nipple, twists just enough that she’s moaning out for him, calling out his name, even in the openness of the balcony, right over the ocean, where people are still milling about.

Liam bites down on his bottom lip, removes his hold from her chest and thigh, and takes both of her hands in his. “Listen to me, Zayn,” he says, voice colored with authority and seriousness, and all Zayn wants to do is come. “Be a good girl and put your hands on the rails.”

She huffs out a breath, but she listens, hands gripping the metal. She almost has a heart attack when he drops down to his knees in front of her, licking his lips when he looks at her face.

“Keep your hands on the rails, ‘kay, baby? Be a good girl for me,” Liam says as his hands reach for her hips, hooking both his index fingers in the material of her panties, pulling them down over her thighs, and Zayn lifts her feet so he can toss them aside.

“Yes, Daddy,” she says breathlessly, looking down the length of her body to watch him take her in. He looks marveled, amazed, eyes alight with wonder, and she knows what’s going to happen, why he’s on his knees, but it makes her body tremble when he presses his mouth just underneath her navel, tongue darting out to lick over her skin, trailing his kisses down to where her legs connect, where her cunt is throbbing for him, dripping wet, slick with desperation. All for him.

He doesn’t start with his mouth, not like she wishes he would, but he does touch his fingers to her pussy, slips right between her lips to touch the pads of his index and middle fingers to her clit, rubbing over her. She groans, and her knees buckle a bit, and Liam makes a noise of protest.

“Zayn,” he admonishes, reprimands, and it feels like being burnt while he’s sucking bruises into the flesh on her hips, where the block heart is tattooed, and she’s nodding, complying, trying her best, but he slips his fingers inside of her and she _can’t breathe_.

“Fuck, Liam, _yes_ ,” she slurs, and Liam chuckles against her skin, and she doesn’t know how can be so amused by all of this when he’s the one on his knees. “Daddy, please, I need it,” she murmurs, throwing her head back and moaning when he finally gets his mouth on her. She’s got a leg hitched over his shoulder, open for him, and his mouth is hot and wet against her, his tongue strong and flat against the pulsing of her clit, and she knows she should be quieter but she can’t—it’s just too good, the way he licks her out, the way his fingers pump furiously inside of her, crooking just right so she’s shaking and shuddering and her body is too hot and she’s slick with sweat and all she wants to do is come.

“You’re being such a good girl, Zayn. Such a good girl for me.” Liam’s voice is harsh, but it’s quiet, like the praise is just for her, and she can’t help but undulate her hips into the thrusting of his fingers, looking down at him, the way he’s on his knees for her, mouthing at her pussy like it’s all he wants to do, be right there to taste the way she drips for him. “So wet for me, babe. Can you come for me? Can you be a good girl and come?”

He gets his mouth back on her, removes his fingers to grip at her hip with a bruising force she relishes, and he gets his tongue inside of her, deep inside of her, and she’s keening, whining, coming hard enough that her legs do give out. It’s too much, floods inside of her, and she’s grinding her hips into his mouth, crying out for him, and she can’t hold herself up anymore when it crashes inside of her veins, seizes her muscles, but Liam is so good to her, catching her body, becoming her balance and steadying her, kissing her all over as she comes down from her high, blinking away the tears that have built up on the waterlines of her eyes.

Liam stands, and presses his mouth to her neck, the space underneath her ear and she feels foggy and hazy, and Liam whispers to her, how good she was for him, how good she is, how beautiful she looks when she comes. Zayn takes it all in like breaths of air, enjoys the blissful praise he gives her. He curls his arms around her waist, rubs her back, presses her in close so she can curl up against her chest, mouth over the expanse of his chest. She’s worn out, a little spent, but she isn’t done, and neither is he, it seems, when he grips the backs of her thighs and picks her up.

Inside the hotel room, the lights are still on and the music is still playing and Liam’s setting her down on the bed closest to the sliding glass doors, then walking into the bathroom. Zayn takes the seconds of his absence to breathe and try to make her body stop shaking so damn much.

When Liam returns, he’s holding a ribbon of condoms, and Zayn leans up on her elbows, catching his eyes, grinning at him.

“I’ve got stamina, Liam, but there’s no way you’re gonna fuck me six times,” she says.

Liam shakes his head, tosses the ribbon on the bed just off the side of her hips when he makes it to the edge of the bed. “Smart ass,” he mutters with a grin, stripping from his pants. He stands naked in front of her, like he’s offering himself and Zayn can’t help but lick her lips when she takes in the sight of his strong thighs, the way his cock is hard, red, leaking at the tip, just for her. It sends thrills of exhilaration rushing down her spine and she crawls over to the edge of the bed, climbs off so she can kneel in front of him like he’d done for her.

“I know you wanna fuck me, Daddy, but I wanna taste. Can I?” she asks him, looking up at him with wide eyes, taking in the way his posture is straight, tall, standing above her. There’s a certain feeling that rushes through her when she calls him that, when she says the word Daddy like it’s natural, and his eyes are gleaming down at her like he likes it. She wants him so badly, fuck, to dick down into her throat, make it hard for her to breath, to come on her lips afterwards. She wants it, to taste him thick on her tongue, mouth at the heaviness of his balls. He looks so good like this, with him looking down at her with desperate eyes, nodding his head.

“Yeah, Zayn,” he murmurs, reaching his hand to set it gently over her cheek. “Y’can suck it if you want. ‘S all for you.” Zayn takes him in her hand, stroke him a few times, watches as he closes his eyes and mutters a string of swear words, and he’s so hard, hot, thick and—Zayn’s seen more than a few cocks, but Liam’s is so nice, pretty almost, with the way the precome blurts out from the tip, how the thick vein runs down the side, and Zayn leans forward to trace it with her tongue, licking down his shaft and then back up to collect the heady taste of his precome.

“Tastes so good,” she says, and then she takes him into her mouth, careful with her teeth, but she goes for it, wetting him with an abundance of saliva, enough that it dribbles out of her mouth and down her chin, and Liam’s hand is still on her face, rubbing his thumb over the apple of her cheek. Her knees are rubbing raw into the carpet, but she doesn’t care, not when she’s concentrating on relaxing her throat for him, so she can take him down into her throat, suck him off real good, so he never forgets it.

“You’re so good for me, baby girl. So good on your knees, just taking my dick,” Liam rasps, and his eyes are dark when Zayn looks up, and he licks his lips in such an obscene way it makes her wonder if he can still taste her on his lips. “You like it don’t you? Being so pretty on your knees, sucking cock?”

Zayn doesn’t answer, not really, when all she can do is moan around the thick of his dick, take him in deep so he touches the back of her throat and her nose is pressed against the skin of his pelvis and her lips are stretched obscene around him. Zayn cups herself, shoves two fingers inside her cunt as she pulls off his cock, taking in a shaky breath, and she goes back in, but Liam commands, “Enough, Zayn.” And she whines, right there on her knees, because she wanted him to come, to cover her face with it, to mark her up.

“But Daddy—“

Liam shakes his head, nods over to the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he says, and she does, stripping from the article of clothing and throwing it behind her, arching her back so he can see the modest swells of her tits, the way she offers up her body to him just so he can take her.

“Come on, Princess,” he murmurs and it sends sparks shooting through her veins, her fingers tingling with the need to touch him. He sits right on the edge of the bed and beckons her closer while she watches the way his muscles move underneath the gold of his skin. He’s so effortlessly sexy, looking at her with fire in his eyes as she stands up, watching him from the end of the bed. He takes her in and she lets him, knows how she looks with her skinny waist and the flare of her hips, her breasts and the length of her flawless neck. Her hair is coming out of the knot she made earlier and she pulls it down, lets it fall over her shoulders.

She sits on his lap, knees on either side of his hips, pressing into the bed. He moves his hands over her waist, up to cup her breasts, palm them as he leans up to kiss her, swallow down the sweetness of her moans, and he’s groaning when she rubs herself over his dick. She could get off just like this, come all over him if he’d let her, but he stills her rhythm when he presses the palms of his hands over her ass.

“Be good, Zayn,” he says. “Patient. You know I’m gonna fuck you real good, don’t you? Make it good for you, so you can’t walk, huh, feel it for days? That what you want?” he says against her collar, mouthing at her fevered flesh. He leans down further and Zayn pushes out her chest and he mouths at her cleavage, marks up the swells of her tits and takes a nipple between his lips, sucking on it, getting her to moan out loud. “That’s it, Zayn. Be loud for me, I wanna hear you. Want everyone to hear you while you ride me, ‘kay?”

Zayn nods and she can hear him tearing a condom open between their bodies open, and she’s good for him, rolls the rubber down his cock, strokes him a few time before she balances herself and guides him in.

Fuck. _Fuck_. He’s big, felt big in her hand and in her mouth, but inside of her it’s better, addictive, snug and hot and he fills her up, gets it in so deep she’s got her eyes rolling in the back of her head, arching her back at the sensation of him being inside of her like this. She sets her hands on his shoulders and his mouth is latched onto her throat and his hands are pressed back onto her ass, guiding a soft, slow, _gentle_ rhythm, like he’s letting her find herself.

“So good, Daddy. So big,” she mutters, and she can feel him grin against her skin.

“Yeah? Makes you feel good, doesn’t it? Feels good in that tight cunt, hmm?” Liam murmurs.

Zayn nods, building up a rhythm until she’s bouncing on him, gripping Liam’s shoulders for leverage, and her thighs are burning from the exertion and her tits are swaying in Liam’s face but all he seems to be able to do is look up at her face, watch her as she fucks herself on his dick, takes him in so deep with a rhythm that’s ridiculously fast, such a quick pace it rocks the bed and the frame knocks loud against the wall, adds to the thumping bass of the music and the way she whines for him, the huffing of Liam’s breath and the way he groans when she clenches the walls of her pussy around his dick, grinding down on him, feeling the way his pelvic bone rubs so nicely against her aching clit. She’s gonna come again, and it’s going to happen soon, and then—

It’s like Liam already knows her, like they’ve spent years like this, locked up in a bedroom with naked skin pressed up against each other, like Liam’s spent hours making love her body, making her scream. But he’s running on instincts with the way he touches her, how he kisses her, how he guides her speed with the rough palms of his hands running over her flushed skin.

And she’s right there, teetering on the edge of her second orgasm, and Liam pushes her into it when he lifts one hand from the round cheek of her ass to smack his palm back down—It surprises it, makes her hips rock down into his, grinding dirty and hard with his cock deep inside of her and she’s begging for it, wanting more of it, pleading, “Again, Daddy, again.”

“You like it, Zayn?” He spanks her again, grunting when her fingernails grip harshly into the flesh of his chest, and she’s bouncing again, spurred on by the heat of his palm smacking her ass. Her orgasm flushes over her, crashes on her and she convulses with the force of it, tightening her thighs around his hips, curling her body into him, and wrapping her arms around his shoulder, as she hides her face in the crook of his neck, dragging the blunt nails of her fingertips up the expanse of his back.

“God, Daddy, yes, _yes_ ,” she whines, rocking her hips into him. And he’s murmuring to her, praising her, pushing her through the explosiveness of her orgasm and it’s good, makes her shiver, the way his hands curve over the arch of her back, smoothing over her bottom where she’s sure the skin is flushed red.

“You’re so good for me, Zayn, such a good girl, so good. So beautiful, you’re so lovely, baby,” he says to her, still deep inside of her. Zayn doesn’t say anything, not when her body is spent and limp and she’s just leaning against Liam’s chest, mouthing at his neck and sucking on that enticing birthmark of his and—Liam doesn’t come, no, just curls his arm around her waist, and moves them so he lays her down against the bed, and she’s tired, feeling the exhaustion inside of her body, spreading throughout her limbs. She doesn’t think she can do it again, can go anymore, can take him inside of her. But he’s kneeling before her, hands spreading her thighs and she can see that he’s still so hard, aching with it, and she wants to be good; she can lie on her back and let him fuck her again, let him come inside of her like she’s been wanting him to since she first met him and set her eyes on the length of his body.

“Daddy,” she whimpers, hands on his ribcage, legs around his hips, and Liam leans down, kisses her full on the mouth, long and wet and intense; Zayn’s not sure how she feels, but it’s good, definitely, right there, pooling like low heat in the lowest part of her belly. Liam kisses like he loves her, like he knows her, like this isn’t just a late night tryst, and she loves that the most. “Daddy, please,” she whines again, her hands falling to his hips, over the small of his back, so he can just press inside of her again, fuck her slow and deep like she wants it.

“Okay, baby. It’s okay,” he murmurs, and then his cock is stroking inside of her, slow thrusts of his hips while she sucks on his bottom lip. She can’t believe it’s building again, can’t believe her body is responding this strongly to Liam and his hips and his body and his mouth, can’t believe he’s going to get her to come again. She’s sensitive and everything she feels makes her alive, burning with it all, and she wants him to stay here forever, his body pressed against her, with his mouth whispering the prettiest things she’s ever heard.

“So beautiful like this, Zayn. So good for me. So hot and tight, laying back for me like this. Think you can come again? Think I can fuck another orgasm out of you, pretty baby?” Liam reaches to mark his lips over the column of her neck, suck in marks like the possessive shit he is, and she loves it, keens for him when his hips cant into hers, undulate a rhythm that makes her breathless, whining because he knows he can fuck another orgasm out of her, make her come around him again. She’s ruined for any other men, she knows, now that she’s had a taste of him.

Liam leans up on his knees, hands on Zayn’s hips and she’s grasping at the pillows while he fucks his hips hard into hers, staring down at her body, at her face, at the way his hips jolt her up further on the bed. “Right, there, Liam, please, fuck—don’t stop, don’t st—“ She knows she’s loud, but she can’t help it when Liam’s lips are so pink in the light of the bedroom and his eyes are so concentrated on her body, and his hands are bruising into her hips and his cock is pressing so deep inside of her she can feel it in her stomach. It’s good, so good, knows it’s gonna knock her right out into sleep for the next three days, and all she can think about when she comes for the third time that night is that she hopes Liam likes to cuddle.

She climaxes with a pathetic whine and Liam thrusts through it, through the tightness she creates, pressing a hand down over her belly and it does things to her. She’s known Liam for years, and right now, with him pressed in so close, she thinks about what it’d be like for him to come into her, the way she’d drip from it, how she’d like the way it sounds when he’s stuffing her with it.

It’s too much to think about, too much, so she loosens the hold she has on his hips, lets her legs fall open on either side of his body and pleads, “Come on me, please, Daddy.”

Liam looks gorgeous in this light, muscles tense and flexing, skin sweaty, and there’s a strained groan that drops from his mouth, and he listens to her, pulls out of her and tears the condoms off so he can stroke over her belly, right over her navel, until he’s throwing his head back and coming all over her in white hot spurts, dripping from his cock onto her sweaty flesh. She praises him, tells him, “So good, Daddy. So hot, I love being covered by it. Like it when you mark me up like this.”

And then it’s over and Liam’s sitting back on his haunches and Zayn doesn’t dare feel exposed now, not when she’s just had the hottest sex of her life with a man she thought was exceptionally vanilla.

She swipes a finger through Liam’s come sitting hot on her belly, dipping her finger in her mouth to taste. Liam groans, huffing out a laugh and leaning forward to catch her mouth in a soft kiss. _There he is_ , Zayn thinks, the man she knows he is, gentle in nature, even though her body is screaming otherwise.

“You think you know someone,” he says to her, grinning madly, bright enough that his cheeks round and there are crinkles by his eyes and all she wants to do is fly back to London and lock him up in her flat and never let him go.

“Yeah, well, you loved it as much as I did,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I need a drink and a fucking cigarette.”

Liam seems to take that as a direction and leaves her alone on the bed, but he comes back with the pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a beer from the mini fridge, and a wet towel to clean her up.

“What a gentleman,” she teases as he wipes her clean between her thighs, gentle with the way he touches her, and then cleans the come off her belly, tossing the rag onto the ground next to the bed. Zayn sits up, a little shaky, a whole lot satisfied, to light up her cigarette. She watches as Liam closes the sliding glass door, leaving it open just a crack. Zayn uses the empty soda can on the nightstand to flick the ash of her cigarette, eyeing the expanse of Liam’s back, the raised lines of red she knows were from her fingernails. She feels smug that she’s marked him back.

“What does this change?” He asks, standing near the sliding door, naked as ever, beautiful, cut and fit and soft looking, like he’s just as tired and spent as she is.

“What do you want it to change, Liam?” She asks, countering his question. He shrugs his shoulders.

“Everything.”

Zayn looks at the end of her cigarette, then back at Liam, taking another drag. Blowing out the smoke, she licks her lips. “Then it changes everything. You need to tell me what you want, or else we’re stuck playing games.”

“I don’t want to play anymore games, Zayn. Just wanna take you home.” His eyes burn dark and honest and Zayn sighs, shrugging her shoulders. “Keep you. Make you mine.

“I could lose my job for this, Liam,” she mutters. Which yes, is completely her fault and she shouldn’t have even come over here in the first place, not when she’s ranks higher than Liam and fucking with an employee is obviously against company policy.

Liam frowns. “Is that what you’re worried about? I’ll get another job. I’ll work somewhere else.” Liam comes closer, and with the earnest look on his face, Zayn is gonna have a hard time saying no to him. He crawls over the bed, right between her legs so he can rest his head on her tummy.

She runs her hand through his sweaty hair, scratching behind his ear. “I can’t make you do that, Liam.”

“You’re not making me, I want to. I do. You don’t even—“ He huffs, looking up at her with those wide brown eyes she’s so fond of, and her heart melts a bit. “We’ve been circling each other for, what, four, five years?”

Zayn laughs, inhaling from her cigarette and then breathing out a steady stream of smoke. “I call you ‘Daddy’ when you fuck me and what? You suddenly want to marry me?”

Liam grins, the crinkles by his eyes making Zayn’s belly flip. It makes her body hot that Liam’s even entertained the idea. If she’s gonna settle down with someone, Liam’s the only person she knows that would strive to make her the happiest person she can be.

“Yeah, maybe,” he says. “Make a proper wife out of you.”

Zayn shakes her head. “Liam—“

“Just think about it, okay? I’m not gonna ask you to marry me tonight, Zayn. But just think about how great we could be. After all,” he says, pressing a kiss to her stomach, “you’re the one that knocked on _my_ door.”

“To fuck, Liam. Not to plan the rest of my life,” Zayn says with an uncharacteristic giggle, stubbing the cigarette out and sighing.

“But you aren’t saying no,” Liam reasons.

“I’m not saying no. In what world could I ever say no to you, Liam Payne?” she answers back. Zayn pushes against his shoulder and slides down the mattress so he can wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her properly. “I could never say no to you, Liam. You just weren’t asking the right questions.”

“Well, I’m asking you now, aren’t I? Let me date you and treat you well, and come home to you, and fuck you good, like you apparently like,” he says with a bright grin that makes Zayn feel a little bit shy. “Just wanna make you mine,” he echoes.

Zayn huffs out a breath, but she can’t hide her own smile. “When we get home, alright? We can do whatever you want. I’ll let you take me out and we can move in together and adopt some puppies and argue about bills and fight over movies to watch. We can be that couple.”

Liam’s smile is soft now. “We can be that couple. To think, it only took five years for us to get here.”

“Five years too long, if you ask me, but we’re here now. Can’t complain much, can we?”

Liam laughs a little bit and his naked body is still sweaty and so is hers and she’ll make them get into the shower in a little while, but right now, she’s content, thinking about how alone she won’t be in London. Liam will be all around her apartment, on her couch, in her kitchen, keeping her bed warm.

They have a lot to figure out, but right now, she closes her eyes and falls asleep without much of a fight, Liam’s arms snug around her waist and her head on his chest.

There’s always tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! [Tumblr.](http://liamthirst.tumblr.com/)


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